sixthiteration | Test Drive 21 (October & November)

→ Holds and applications are always open. Holds are required for all applications.

→ Choose one of the scenarios below or make up your own. Feel free to try multiple scenarios.

→ Write LOGS or TEXT prompts, or both.

→ THERE ARE ONLY THREE RULES FOR THE TDM:

1. It has to take place in the 6I universe.
2. It cannot be the character's arrival into the game.
3. Please only test new characters who do not have a version in the game. Our cast list is here.

→ TDM threads cannot be used to meet AC, but if the character is accepted into the game and both players agree, you may keep the CR.

→ Character want ads are here.

Prompts

STAYING POWER - Go down to the bunker, they said. You can get yourself amazing powers from the vending machine, they said. Well, you've done that, and you've made your choice, but one thing nobody told you was that unless it's a power you're familiar with, you might be on a teensy bit of a learning curve when it comes to keeping it under control. You have a week to figure it out without killing anyone; have fun!

FORGIVE AND... - You poor thing, you've gotten into some dust moths. Not that you can remember that, because depending on how big that swarm was and how quickly you got out of it, you might not remember much at all. Better hope somebody's got some Forget Me Nots on hand.

HIT & RUN - Life in the village can be pretty sleepy... until suddenly, it's not. Were you being a troublemaker? Were you disturbing the local wildlife? Because it's now disturbing you, chasing you down the street in front of everyone. Maybe it's a herd of chupapaca or a swarm of fireflies. Or maybe you went old school and it's just a really pissed off badger. Godspeed and good luck.

WILDCARD - Choose your own adventure. Maybe play powers roulette.

Texts

All characters are fitted with a smart watch-like device on their left wrist, which they can use to send text messages to other villagers.

- Texts may only be 140 characters long
- No video or voice, text only
- Display names may be changed by characters on the fly, but anyone can tap to see someone's real full name

Please list your CHARACTER NAME, CANON & PROMPT in your SUBJECT LINE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That means the touching is going to have to stop, at least the way it's been happening. He makes a different kind of face now, a sour one, and it probably looks funny from the outside, but it's a reflection of how much he doesn't like the fact that he has to let go and Faraday has to let go either.

That's a complicated thing for him to think about later. Right now, he has things to show him. "I don't know. Some village? It's not any America that I've seen, even if I've only mostly been from Texas to California," he admits.

His fingers slowly withdraws his fingers, letting them drag along his shoulder and then dropping to his side. For a long moment he still doesn't step away, watching Vasquez for a long moment.

"What about up north? I mean, could be you got far North, out by the gold mines up that way," he says, considering. "How'd we get here?" A year or not, he just can't make any sense of it all. "And what's with the night clothes?" He asks, picking at the scrub shirt, and how come you're all dressed like that?"

Just as he'd suspected, when the touch goes away, Vasquez can help but feel the disappointment running through him. He knows that they're not close, but it had felt like something was brewing when they'd fought back to back, not to mention when they'd drank together and the bickering (and flirting) as they set up.

With one last sigh, he gives in to knowing he doesn't get Faraday's touch anymore. "I've never been that far North, I hate the cold." Which, eyes flashing with worry, he now thinks of something he hasn't paid much mind to. "It's probably going to get really cold here. Mierda."

He glances down at his clothes, then to Faraday's, smirking as he does. "I think someone likes me more."

Joshua is acutely aware of how long his hand lingered against Vasquez's skin. Just like he's aware of how it feels like burning against his palm now, how he feels the scar still against his own palm. Not to mention he figures he really needs to work out just what he thought some of those words and teasing and all had been before all of this. If he's wrong, then he's fixin' to get himself laid out and that's really not something he wants to have happen.

If he's right... then maybe it really does matter what that look was all about when they stopped talking about how it's been a year.

"You better buck up then, Muchacho, because lookin' around this place? It's probably going to get real cold. Awww, it's gonna be your first snow," he teases, because that's easier than thinking on emotions.

He snorts at the comment about being more liked. "I just got here. Only one that knows me is you. And who'd you steal them from? Might have to make a stop by there myself."

Vasquez keeps making a face and decides he's going to have to start finding blankets and coats and thick, warm things. That, or he's going to have to convince some of his better friends to keep him warm through the winter. Staring at Faraday, now, he wonders if he's going to be able to keep that going.

He should, it's safer, and besides, if Faraday is himself, then he'll probably make himself known as the world's greatest lover to the population soon enough. "No stealing, they came for me in a box with my lasso," he says. "And cigarettes," he adds, with the bliss of a man who's very happy. "So much tobacco and rolling papers that I'll smoke for months."

No cigars, though, but beggars can't be choosers.

"I don't know, you look okay in those," he says, tipping his head to the side to study him. "Not so bad to look at, guerito."

Knowing that he's got some serious feelings stirring for another and giving up on being the world's greatest lover? Come on. Why make that decision? Why give it up? Okay it came down to give it up or keep Vasquez, that'd be another story but not what he's thinking. Course, right now he's not even thinking about the fact that the feelings he has and what they could be are at all the same thing.

How could he even believe they might be the same? Flirting and sharp words didn't mean anything more between men like them.

"So you got someone in this place giving you presents, huh? Is that what this dang thing is?" He holds up his hand, showing the device on his wrist. "What even is this made from? I mean, never seen anything like it."

Though he glances over, smirking, putting a wiggle in his step. "I'm not such a bad look in anything so..."

Vasquez's eyes are still on Faraday's body, not sure he's been able to take them off since he got here. He's used to staring at the man, hasn't been able to take his fascinated eyes off him since he tripped off a horse and insulted him.

It had been promising and exciting, because Vasquez hand't been sure if they were going to kill one another or have something else. "I have lots of people giving me presents," he agrees, but the thing on his wrist, this he doesn't know much about. "Some kind of watch that also does things. Some people, they type on it," he says, but he's not looking at the watch.

No, he's still staring at Faraday, the way he moves, the view of his ass from where Vasquez has dropped back. "I can think of a few things that don't suit you," he says. "Or, maybe I just look better in them."

It's not unusual, the two of them watching one another. They could claim a lot of things, but it had just become second nature between them and it isn't likely to change. So he can't help but smirk at Vasquez when he makes that comment.

"Got yourself a pretty little harem here, huh?" He can't help himself, being a smart ass. "Hope they don't mind me crashing wherever you're sleeping. Been sleeping in an empty house for a few days, but figure eventually if I'm not hiding from a bounty..." He lets the words hang there, smiling sharp.

"Type on it? What?" He pokes at it, frowning suddenly. "This like the things I've seen in the house that are so... odd?"

H stops then, turning to look at Vasquez. He looks insulted. "Like what? What don't I look good in?"

He thinks about the people that he's been making some time with and for two out of three, maybe pretty is the right word, but he snorts a little when he thinks of Bobo as pretty. "They're not so bad. Besides, I don't think you can stay in the inn with me. Maybe, instead, I'll come to you."

After all, Faraday won't give a shit if he smokes and there'll be less of a line for the bathroom. He just hadn't wanted to be alone again, but he won't be, not now.

"I don't know, I don't use it," he says bluntly. "I just see other people sending messages. And for your clothes..." He trails off, taking the time and the opportunity to look over Faraday, tongue pressed to his lower lip. "No," he says, like he's thought it over and doesn't intend to say. "You won't like hearing the truth."

Bobo might tell you he's damn pretty and don't forget that. It might come with a lot of alcohol, but he might still say it.

"What? I'm not allowed in civilized house?" He takes it wrong that he's not allowed in the Inn at all. "Is it because I'm in night clothes?" Fighting through that cultural line, not getting it because he's measuring this world by the world he's known.

He pokes at the thing on his wrist. "How is that..." He frowns, this being the first thing he's truly found an issue with. Most the rest at least generically made sense to him.

"No, you don't get to stop like that. Come on, Mexican. Try and tell me there's something I don't look good in. Even this," he says, tugging at the scrub top. "You can't name anything."

"It's more that I only have the one bed," Vasquez replies, but he's not telling Faraday he can't, just that he's not going to suggest that he can when he's not so sure about Faraday. Then again, how long is he going to be at the Inn? Maybe he'll take Bobo up on the offer and stay at his place and just bring Faraday along with him.

It wouldn't be so bad, but it might be awkward, considering what he's doing with Bobo right now and the things he wants to do to Faraday.

"You'd look so terrible in proper clothes," he says. "Proper Mexican ones, you couldn't carry off the patterns or styles at all." It had taken just about all his energy not to tell Faraday that he probably looked like shit when naked.

Maybe another day, he'll try that.

"Also, my name is Vasquez, guerito."

His eyes narrow, watching Vasquez closely. "That's all it is, not that you think I can't be around your friends?" Arching a brow, looking entirely insulted that it could ever be that.

"How can you believe that? I am a handsome man. I have broad shoulders. I can wear anything," he says, rolling his eyes and sounding way more insulted than he should all things considered.

Planting his hands on his hips, giving Vasquez a look, not at all impressed. "You get... I mean... My name..." He gestures as if he'll catch up. "Also, don't you have another name?"

"I think my friends would like you," Vasquez says with a laugh as he realizes how true that is. He thinks Bobo would and Wynonna would definitely like Faraday. He even thinks so would the others that he's met, so he doesn't think there's going to be bad blood anywhere, there

As to the clothes, he shakes his head and his finger, waggling it at Faraday. "The pants I used to wear? No." His pants, which had been probably too tight for the time, going with Vasquez's too-big shirt. "Besides, patterns? You wouldn't know what to do with bright colours, I think."

He stops so he can give Faraday an amused look about his name. "Of course I have another. I give it to the people I like the most."

"Everyone likes me," he says, sounding a bit prissy about it but amused at the same time. He knows it isn't true, but he definitely knows he can fair pretty well with people when he tries to be sociable. He's lovable!

"Oh those pants." He says it considering. He remembers those pants, definitely. "You saying I can't wear color? I feel insulted."

And yet he's not, and it shows. It's enjoying the games, the words, the flirting and banter between them. For him it was just yesterday and it's part of his life even as little as it's been in his life. It is what he expects, and gives as good as he expects to get.

Though that makes him roll his eyes. "Well then, obviously I won't have it." Because he's not asking. Nope. Dammit, why doesn't he know?!

"Goodnight didn't, sometimes," Vasquez counters, which is funny to him because for all that Vasquez had prodded and jibed at him with words, he seemed to tolerate Vasquez whereas he seemed sometimes jittery around Faraday. "And who says I like you?"

It would be the biggest bullshit lie in existence to say he doesn't, but he likes to bullshit, sometimes.

"Maybe you can earn my name eventually," he says with a casual shrug, as if he's not already thinking of when he can have it. Walking back towards the inn, he can feel the interest stirring again, fantasies he thought he'd buried resurfacing, of Faraday moaning his proper name in his ear. Cheeks going a touch hot, he stares forward. "And we'll see about colour. Maybe you can wear a big nose, like a clown?"

He snorts at that, rolling his eyes. "I'm not worried what he thinks of me," he says, still having a bitter taste in his mouth for the Cajun riding off, even if Vasquez says he came back. Though at that challenging question, he smirks at him.

"You do. You say it," he taunts, sounding smug though he's not going to point out to him just why he believes this. He know it's true though. Just like his sharp words don't mean he doesn't care about Vasquez either.

"If this involves cleaning up your horse, or begging, you're going to just get nicknames. Oh. I'll just start guessing, Carlos," he says, grinning wide then, amused with himself. Which isn't hard for him to do, amuse himself.

"Maybe you can bite my ass," he says in cheerful tones, striding along beside him.

Vasquez shrugs, because he does like Faraday. He likes him too much, which is the problem that he's run up against. He's a foul-mouthed, smelly, bastard of an asshole man and Vasquez adores him in ways that he doesn't want to talk about out loud.

It's his bad taste, that's all. "It's not begging or cleaning my horse, it's just getting to know me better. And no, not Carlos," he says, rolling his eyes as they go, eyes sliding down to Faraday's ass, snorting because that's a thought he has entertained.

He can't imagine that working so well.

"I know yours already," he taunts. "Joshua," he says, his accent working over the name with pleasure as he feels how it sits on his tongue.

"Okay Roberto," he drawls, smirking at him because he knows he can keep doing this. He can come up with a lot if he puts his mind to it.

He gives him a look though, considering, but what he thinks he isn't sure he can say it. Say that he probably knows Vasquez better than he knows anyone, which isn't saying a lot about how distant he has kept himself from everyone else around him. Until he came to a clearing by the water and saw Vasquez.

Then he goes and says his name like that and fuck there's just something about it in that accent that just leaves him unable to even draw a breath. Biting at his lower lip, staring at Vasquez for the longest time, trying to think of what to even say. Not sure he can say anything.

"No one ever..." He stops, shaking his head a bit. "I don't care if you call me that." Him. He doesn't care if he called him that.

Vasquez doesn't argue that name, because maybe if he stops, then Faraday will shut up. He doesn't want Faraday to take that as permission to keep name-calling, though, and if he starts being serious about it, then he knows he'll have to give up his real name. As for right now, he'll leave it be.

Are they even moving still? He feels like they've ground to a halt, with Faraday staring at him, Vasquez heatedly staring back. He wants to say it again and again, which is why he's relieved when Faraday says he doesn't care if he says it.

"Good," he says pleasantly, hand on Faraday's back between his shoulders to get him moving again, to the inn. "Joshua is a better name than Faraday. Then again, so is guerito."

The sad part is, in that Faraday is a child. Without it getting a rise, it's not nearly as fun. Especially in case there's a chance he won't hear his name like that again.

Though he can't help but to make a face, knowing that forward process had ended somewhere between teasing and knowing he's flirting, but not having a damn clue if that's just him or it's mutual. Most of his companionship came with a price, and this one he isn't sure is part of friendship, or he's mistaking a lot in that pained look while he bared his physical scars.

So he let that hand guide him, not walking too fast though. Just so that maybe it lingers a minute or two.

"Only you get away with calling me either," he says, mostly a grumbling sound. "Joshua's a kid on a farm, which ain't me anymore." His past is that. A future wherein someone that never knew that boy called him that? Maybe that he can handle. Maybe it's just that it's Vasquez and he doesn't want to discourage him, even if he taunts him in ways that could ruin a lot.

"Everyone says you have to stay here, between the two villages. That true?" Because he trusts that Vasquez has tested that and will know.

"I think it's something else completely," Vasquez argues, seeing as he's very fond of using that name for him, his eyes sliding over Faraday and thinking of moaning that name, having that man on top of him, pushing into him, pinning him down.

It's enough to make the tips of his ears go red and embarrassed, though he doesn't want to give his hand. Then again, he's not so good at bluffing, so maybe he's already in deep shit. "I tried to head out to the water, but it's like an ocean. Then there's mountains and a bunker. The way in, there's no way out," he says, because the tubes don't seem to put anyone back.

Nodding to the inn, he gives Faraday a destination. "There, I've been staying there, though in the winter, I think maybe I move in with someone else."

He glances at Vasquez. "It's only completely different here," he says, which is as close as he can come to saying it is different with him. But it's the same difference. Especially in his mind.

Something's off, and Faraday knows it. He just doesn't know what. Maybe it's this place. Or it's definitely what happened to him that he doesn't want to know about. Something is different though, and he's worried it's going to screw up whatever the hell it is that he and Vasquez shared. Closest thing to caring about someone and having them around, and wanting that.

"How is there no way out? Mountains? I mean, with a boat we could, right?" He doesn't like how that sounds, even if he isn't sure he cares. For now. Eventually though... He will feel the need to roam.

"Someone else, huh?" Man, he doesn't like the sound of that, expression turning sour. So much for those thoughts. "This someone senorita have a name?"

"Joshua," he says again, but this time it's sing-song and teasing, his eyes glinting with mischief because he just wants to say it, see what kind of reaction he can get out of him. Of course, then he turns sour and Vasquez rolls his eyes. Even if he weren't sleeping with Bobo (and he is), what Faraday is forgetting is that people can have different feelings.

"I'm not getting into a boat," he says, feeling seasick just to mention it. "And yeah, he has a name. Bobo," he keeps going, casual as you like, like Vasquez hasn't just revealed to Faraday that he likes men the same as he likes Marias, that he could like one specific man just as much, too.

Even the thrill of his name toyed with by that mouth doesn't do much for the way his stomach gets weird at that. He goes and gets lost for a year, and Vasquez isn't just messing around with men, but got himself some boyfriend. A boyfriend who...

"What kinda name is Bobo?" Yeah, because that's the proper answer in that moment. "Ain't that something in your language like all those names you call me?" He glances back at him, not wanting him to see his expression too much. What kind of dumbass fool gets himself upset over a man that isn't likely to be interested in the same things Faraday's gotten into his head.

That's what he gets for thinking that someone giving back as good as they got felt the same. Not that he'd felt this way about another man, so maybe he's just let his head get all twisted up for nothing. Or maybe that's what happens when you disappear for a year.

"I don't know, I don't ask. What kind of name is Goodnight or Red Harvest? I just assume you're all strange," is what Vasquez says dismissively, oblivious to Faraday reacting to the comment in a bad way, mostly because he's just not thinking that he cares at all.

If he cared, he'd have replied to Vasquez's come-ons, wouldn't he have?

"You can ask him when you see him. You're staying with me, aren't you?" he asks it like he's not entirely sure if that's going to happen, but he wants it to, he desperately wants to be able to have Faraday near to him, especially after he'd lost him and was looking at a stretch of never seeing him again. "I don't call you too many names. Just the few," he adds.

"Don't insult him too much, maybe he'll take a liking to you, even, let you stay," he jokes.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject